


Shot Calling

by Missy



Category: Laverne & Shirley (1976)
Genre: Baseball, Celebrations, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 12:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lenny seeks to impress Laverne by scoring a hit during Shotz' final baseball game of the season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shot Calling

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Trope Bingo: Prompt: celebratory kiss

Laverne glanced at her reflection in the well-glossed bartop of the Pizza Bowl. “You promise you’re going to be on your best behavior if we get a home run, woncha Len?”

“Huh?” he emerged frowning, his head still coated with a floury paste. 

“Len!” Laverne whined, picking up a sackcloth towel and vigorously rubbing at his whining puss, “you said you were gonna be a real gentleman at the ballgame today! That means looking clean and acting like a real gentleman, and don’t act like I’m a piece of meat when Joey starts talking to me, okay?”

“Yeah,” he mocked, cringing and rolling away from her persistent, ticklish handling. “Quit it Laverne!”

“Rule number forty-four,” she sing-songed, “no being a big baby!”

He jerked away from her touch, lower lip stuck out. “I ain’t no baby!” Lenny whined right back. “I’m a pisticated, grown, mature male made of throbbing gristle!” 

Laverne’s bottom lip curled up in disdain. “Okay. Just don’t throb anywhere near me, got it?” 

“Deal,” he said, his right hand shooting out. “Wanna shake on it?”

She glanced around herself, becoming uber-aware of her surroundings. “Nah. Let’s just get haulin’ to the ball field before Joey starts trying to pick up an usherette again!”

*** 

It was a blisteringly hot yet gorgeous day at Bunker Field, and the sandlot was abuzz with excitement. The Shotz Braves were up three runs over the Pfister Pirates, and Laverne DeFazio was coming up to bat. Lenny squatted in his usual position behind the umpire – aka Squiggy, who was taking a long time looking up Laverne’s pantleg before calling her first strike.

Lenny’s eyes automatically locked on Joey, who sat in the dugout, swilling a pale ale and wriggling his eyebrows at Mary Lou Persky from public relations. Boy, he didn’t know how Joey could run around trying to smooch up on every single girl on the team AND in the company. Now, if LENNY had a nice girl like Laverne drooling after him, he’d be true! He’d sit home every night and rub her feet and let her make him sandwiches all night!

Then he heard somebody calling his name, and realized the entire roster had cycled through – which meant it was time to scrape the bum off the bench - it was his first at bat of the game.

Joey, predictably, rushed up, trying to dissuade him from taking his turn. “You have to understand, Lenny, if we don’t get this run, we’ll lose the game! Do you want to risk that? Risk disappointing Laverne?”

Lenny’s jaw firmed. “You think I can’t hit that ball?”

“Yes.”

“You’re probably right, but lemme try?” Joey’s groan forced to him to plead. “If I don’t hit it on the second strike you can send in a reliever. Please?”

Joey grumbled. “All right.”

As Lenny came up to bat, he saw Laverne prancing on and off of third base. “Come on, Len!” she shouted. “You can do it!”

In the vague background buzz, he heard Carmine cheering for him – Shirley doing so literally, her pom-poms waving in the air. He gritted his teeth, concentrating very hard on the ball, willing it toward him…

“STEE-RIKE ONE!” Squiggy called, and Lenny glowered at him.

He had one more shot – on more dizzy, nausea-inducing shot. Then he heard a voice cut through the den. 

“GO LENNY! C’mon and bring me home!”

He swung the bat with all of his might.

It connected with Joey’s forehead, the ball, and Squiggy’s faceguard, but Lenny managed a homer.

As he came around third, Laverne threw her arms around his shoulders. He didn’t expect her to plant a kiss on his cheek but boy, did he appreciate it!

She smiled, wiped her lip. “You still don’t kiss bad,” she declared.

“Thanks,” he giggled. “Hey, doncha wanna check on Joey?”

“Nah. He’s with a nurse, and he probably wouldn’t notice me while he’s all concussed.” She gave him a faint smile. “Would you like to have a drink?”

“Sure! And pizza. And maybe one of those big chocolate cakes with the white frosting…”

“Len…” she groaned fondly, then threw an arm around his neck and pulled him toward the refreshment table.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction uses characters from **Laverne and Shirley** , all of whom are the property of the **CBS Television**. No money was gained from the writing of this fanfiction and all are used under the strictures of of the Berne Convention.


End file.
